It was a while before I’d properly processed, and with difficulty had digested the basic fact of my life going forward.  I would not be arriving at my intended destination, my desired destiny had malfunctioned somewhere between the realms of my mind and its outward reverberations as it crashed  through time to the place intended, as an opposite and unintended manifestation in the material world. Something I had not seen, nor could have imagined.

It had perversely manifest, my destiny had become irreparably and irrevocably altered to its opposite, the negation of the view I knew in my mind from the time before time immemorial.

But even as every opposite was materializing all around me still I could not see the impossibility of my desired destination manifesting. I was, after all, an eternal idealist and strongly believed in my destiny. It was an event that riveted me to the spot where I was forced to reflect on the infantile nature of my ideal.

A coming event casts its shadow long ahead of the moment it manifests, this I knew so why did I not see this shadow all around me as I pushed upwards and onwards I repeatedly asked myself in the aftermath of the event. The Godawful event that ripped my heart apart and left me steeped in pain, deeply stained by pained regret. The happy state I desired, the destination towards which I drove myself, and in my determination to reach this happy state I was blindsided and could not see.

Now, there are and can only be approximations of that happy place, unless it is as my brother had said – another universe.



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